Te Tau Tapu o te Atawhai – He Tirotiro i te Hunga Mauhere

‘I was in prison and you came to me.’ Mt. 25:36

Pope Francis has made a point of visiting prisons or detention centres in almost all of his foreign trips. In the weeks leading up to closing his Jubilee Holy Year of Mercy the way he opened it, Francis will devote special events to jubilee celebrations with prisoners and the homeless. On Sunday 6 November he will celebrate a Mass for prisoners and a week later with the homeless. Francis will close the Jubilee of Mercy with a Mass in St Peter’s Basilica on Sunday 20 November, the Feast of Christ the King.

A Corporal Work of Mercy: but how do we carry it out?

Sr Veronica Casey pbvm

Pope Francis has declared a Jubilee for Prisoners on Sunday 6 November. The first Easter of Pope Francis’ reign he washed the feet of youth in a juvenile detention centre challenging us as to what it means to minister on the margins. On his overseas visits he makes a point of going to the toughest of prisons and speaking of God’s love, mercy and forgiveness to the residents. On a visit to the Centre for Social Adjustment in Mexico he told inmates:

‘Celebrating the Jubilee of Mercy with you is recalling the pressing journey we must undertake to break the cycle of violence and crime. We have already lost many decades thinking and believing everything will be resolved by isolating, separating, incarcerating, and ridding ourselves of problems, believing these policies really solve problems. We have forgotten to focus on what must truly be our concern: people’s lives; their lives, those of their families, and those who have suffered because of this cycle of violence.

‘Reintegration or rehabilitation begins by creating a system – that endeavours to promote a culture which acts and seeks to prevent those situations and pathways that end in damaging and impairing the social fabric.’

Pope Francis reminds us how Jesus welcomed everyone into his presence and challenges us to reflect every person is made in the image and likeness of God. We all have the propensity for good and evil and each and every one of us has the propensity for forgiveness.

New Zealand has more people in prison than ever before placing immense strain on the facilities and the personnel involved. It is difficult to understand why we have the second highest imprisonment rate in the Western world, after the USA, with 202 people/100,000 population compared to Australia with 152/100,000, Ireland 82/100,000 and Germany 78/100,000. What we do know is internationally those in prison are most likely to be from minority groups, have poor educational achievement, mental-health problems, socio-economic disadvantage and limited opportunities. This aligns with Pope Francis’ call for a system of social health.

Our prisons are filled with people who have often had a lifetime of deprivation and abuse. They have no experience of a loving God, of belonging or acceptance in a loving and welcoming community. They lack hope and have little or no knowledge of their rightful place in society or of who they are when they are not committing crimes. Our responsibility as members of the Body of Christ is to create a place for them at the table. We can do that in many ways: praying for them, their families and their victims; writing letters; and advocating for a violence-free society where everybody belongs and is welcomed. We can also support our chaplains in their ministry through prayer and through volunteering in the prisons.

Because of the mystery surrounding what happens in prisons and because of the prevailing media portrayal of those who are in there we tend to shy of any involvement and allow our fears to overrule us. This is our own imprisonment – but see what one volunteer says.

‘When I retired from Orthopaedic Surgery at the age of 67, there was on the one hand a sense of freedom from the need to work, but on the other hand a deep sense of loss. I was no longer needed. From being part of a large hospital community I now moved into a much smaller circle of mostly friends and family. In the first year I joined one or two groups, continued in the local Church, mowed the lawn more often and sorted the garden. There were grandchildren to pick up from school, I kept bees and sometimes got in the way of my wife in the kitchen.

‘Then out of the blue I received a call from a prison chaplain whom I knew in her previous life as a senior hospital nurse. “Would I be interested in becoming a ‘prison volunteer’ working under the direction of the chaplains?” I needed time to think about that. I had treated prisoners in hospital; sometimes they were handcuffed to an officer or had a guard at the door. They were fellow human beings who needed help, sometimes an operation. I had never actually been into a prison. Somehow the timing was right. Yes, I would pick up the challenge.

‘This was followed by training to facilitate a grief programme – “Seasons for Growth” designed to be followed by a small group of up to eight participants. There was an introduction to prison rules, procedures and expectations for conduct. Photographs were taken and police checks made. When these were complete an APPE (Authorised Prisoner Provider Entry) identity card with first name, photograph and bar-code was issued and had to be presented at the guard-house for admission and worn at all times in the prison.

‘Initially I visited specific prisoners in the units at the request of the chaplains, usually once a week. I sat in and observed “Seasons for Growth” sessions led by two facilitators. After that I became a facilitator (companion) alongside an experienced companion. Prisoners apply to take the course.

There are four, two-hour sessions over a month. It is very popular with positive feedback from prisoners and staff.

‘I generally work for a month then take a month off. It can be tiring at the age of 75 especially with driving 45 minutes each way. But it is rewarding to see prisoners responding and beginning to change attitudes. It has also changed me. It is one of the most worthwhile activities I have undertaken in my life. I hope to continue for a few years yet.’

One of the hardest days of a prison sentence may be the day it ends. Often they re-enter an unwelcoming society with no support other than from those who helped them to get into prison, difficulty finding somewhere to live and unable to find work. Without these economic and relational advantages they may well return to prison where they perceive they have those advantages.

This is the margin on which the churches can embrace this ministry and provide warm and welcoming communities. We all need friends and mentors and those coming out of prison isolated and friendless even more so. From a life of chronic brokenness, shame and despair the concept of love and belonging is foreign and can only be taught through practical action. As St Francis of Assisi once said: ‘Preach the Gospel and if you have to, use words.’

‘Remember those who are in prison, as if in prison with them.’ (Heb 13:3)

There are many opportunities for assisting in this ministry. Contact your local prison chaplain or Sr Veronica, Senior Catholic Prison Chaplain, at [email protected] for more information.

Visit the imprisoned – Torona ngā mauhere

Deacon Danny Karatea-Goddard Rīkona Danny Karatea-Goddard

My brothers, my sisters

A significant challenge for us all is the over-representation of Māori who make up for more than 50 per cent of the prison population, Māori women 60 per cent, while they comprise some 15 per cent of the country’s population.

In a former life I was contracted by Forensics to visit prisons to create cultural plans designed to assist prisoners reconnect to their whānau, hapū and iwi and implement Māori arts and culture activities to enhance their sense of being Māori.

Visiting prisoners was privileged work. These men and women I encountered had no façade, they were truly honest and taught me a lot about integrity. You could not but ask the question ‘how is it that so many Māori are incarcerated’? Is it because of historical factors such as colonisation, loss of land, urbanisation, disconnection to our way of life, the mārae, language and culture, that we are the impoverished. Whatever the answer, we are called through the Gospel to visit those imprisoned, for you and I know we are all brothers and sisters, in Christ’s family.

E ōku tuākana, e ōku tuāhine

Ko tētehi wero nui ki a tātou katoa ko te rahi, he 50 ōrau, o ngā mauhere Māori kei roto i ngā whareherehere, mō ngā mea wāhine, he 60 ōrau, ahakoa he 15 ōrau noa iho a ngāi Māori o te taupori ki Aotearoa nei.

I ngā rā o mua he kaimahi ahau mā tētehi peka o te Tāhū o te Ture, ā ko tāku mahi hei akiaki i ngā mauhere kia hono atu ki ō ratou whānau, ki ō rātou hapū, ki ō rātou iwi, ā, ko te whāngai atu i ngā kaupapa Māori kia mōhio mai rātou he mana Māori to rātou.

He mahi rangatira te mahi toro atu ki ngā mauhere. He hunga kanohirua kore, he hunga tōtika, nā rātou ahau i ako ki tēnei mea ko te mana o te tangata. Hēoi, ka taka mai te pātai ‘he aha te take he tokomaha ngā mea Māori kua mauheretia?

Nā ngā take o mua pea, pērā i te whakawaimeha, i te murunga whenua, i te hekenga ki ngā tāone nui, i te ngarotanga atu o te reo me ā mātou tikanga, ā mātou ritenga hoki, i pōhara ai mātou. Ahakoa te aha, nā te Rongo Pai tāua i karanga kia toro atu ki te hunga kua mauhere me te mōhio, ae, he tuākana, he tuāhine tātou, te whānau a te Karaiti.

Thoughts from a Prison Chaplain

Sean Ryan

As we enter Mass we sign ourselves with the waters of Baptism to affirm our place in the Body of Christ and on leaving we sign to commit ourselves to taking Christ to the world. The Offertory symbolises the giving of our week ‒ all we did and said or missed, all our hopes, dreams and prayers. These will be blessed, consecrated, transformed into the Body, the Blood of Christ, by Christ who transforms our offering into a perfect gift to God. Here I am assured of God answering my prayers.

It is a great relief to know when I walk through the gates of Whanganui or Manawatu Prisons, I don’t have to be perfect, just present, faithfully sharing pain, joy and hope ‒ their journey. Prison is a time of loss, fear and suffering but can be a time of grace, a renewal of hope and transformation we all yearn for.

St Frances de Sales affirmed everyone is drawn to goodness, to God. In prison, I see hunger for the Word, a desire to be who they want to be and want me to believe they are, not as labelled by society, whānau, or themselves. I see those who come to chapel come for different reasons ‒ relief from cells and units, to come closer to something mystical beyond their experience, a desire to be in a place of hope, a passion to worship their God ‒ reflecting the same truth, honest in their brokenness, much the same as in our own congregations.

EP Hahnenburg writes, ‘The call to be for others is always a call to be with others, particularly with those who suffer… For it is in the sad but sacred darkness of solidarity with the poor that our senses are heightened, and we come to hear more clearly the voice of God.’ Presence, identification, compassion – this is our call and the call of volunteers who faithfully gather with prisoners to affirm our unity, reflecting their relationship with God and neighbour.